


Knight in Red

by insanity_by_proxy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Dream Sequences, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Nightmares, Red Lyrium, Red Templar!Cullen, Red Templars, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3839833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanity_by_proxy/pseuds/insanity_by_proxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Alassa's amazing comic on Deviantart. (Link inside) </p><p>"A sharp and sudden pain sent Cullen to his knees. Get up, man! He chided himself, his head swimming. Get up, or you’re dead! Cullen’s heart hammered in his chest as Samson himself stepped through the circle of assailants.<br/>'You might have stood a chance against us were it not for the fact that you’ve stopped taking lyrium…' Samson said with a grim smile. 'Shall we remedy that, brother?'”</p><p>Cullen finds himself trapped on the battlefield against Samson, who uses the opportunity to corrupt Cullen with red lyrium. Inquisitor Trevelyan picks up the pieces in the wake of this nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knight in Red

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, first of all, a HUGE thank you to Alassa over on Deviantart who allowed me to use her wonderful piece as inspiration and write something for it. (Seriously, go check out her work, it's awesome. Link provided below.) 
> 
> Secondly, this thing is not beta'd so all mistakes are mine own. 
> 
> Thirdly, I don't own Dragon Age or any of it's characters.
> 
> EDIT: The way I portrayed Cullen's PTSD originally didn't sit well with me, so I played with that section a bit and hopefully made it a bit more accurate as a representation of how he as a soldier might react to being woken suddenly from nightmares.

To see the artwork go here: <http://alassa.deviantart.com/art/Knight-in-red-509011773>

 

The smoke on the battlefield was thick and putrid, tinted orange by the glow of pitch-fires. Carrion birds wheeled in a red sky overhead, unconcerned by the distress of the man fighting for his life below.

The Commander of the Inquisition yelled in fury as he struck a powerful backhanded swing with his shield against a corrupted Templar. The creature stumbled back from the force of it, but seemed otherwise unhurt by a blow that would have sent a normal man to his knees.

Seven of his former brethren circled him and jeered as each took their turn to try and defeat the warrior. Their visages were grotesque, covered in clusters of lyrium crystals with a red light spilling out from their mouths and eyes and through cracks in their skin, glowing from some unknown source within. Those in the more advanced stages of corruption stood hunched at odd angles, weighed down and contorted by huge growths of the crystals protruding from their bodies.

The Inquisitor and her most loyal followers had ventured forth from Skyhold to hunt down Samson after he escaped custody. With the help of Solas’ spirit guides and Leliana’s priceless intelligentsia, they tracked him to a ruined fortress deep in the mountains of the South, but Samson had led them all into a trap.

Where the Inquisitor and the other members of their party were, Cullen had no idea. His separation from them had been sudden. One moment he had been following at the Inquisitor’s back as she made her way through the fog, the next she was gone, and he was surrounded by the foes that attacked him now. He just prayed that the Maker had kept the others safe.

A sharp and sudden pain in his shoulder brought Cullen back into the fight, and to the fact that he’d been wounded. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see the horrid grin and smell the dank breath of the creature who’d finally broken through his defenses. Cullen cried out in pain as the creature extracted its hook-like appendage from beneath his armor. His arm spasmed causing him to drop his shield and another blow from a heavy fist to his wounded shoulder sent him to his knees, blinded by the pain.

 _Get up, man!_ He chided himself, his head swimming. _Get up, or you’re dead!_

He raised his sword just in time to block a killing stroke from one of his opponents. But the jarring force of the blow split his sword in two and he was left holding naught but the broken hilt with which to defend himself.

Cullen’s heart hammered in his chest as Samson himself stepped through the circle of assailants.

“You might have stood a chance against us were it not for the fact that you’ve stopped taking lyrium…” Samson said with a grim smile. “Shall we remedy that, brother?”

Cullen felt a chill go down his spine as Samson produced a philter of the glowing red lyrium from some hidden source on his person.

“Hold him down!” Samson ordered as Cullen began to struggle to his feet. The creatures that came forward proved too strong and forced him back onto his knees.

“No!” Cullen growled, still struggling despite the hopelessness of the situation.

Samson advanced and yanked Cullen’s helmet from his head. Tossing the helm aside and then taking a fist full of Cullen’s hair Samson wrenched his head back exposing his throat.

Cullen met Samson’s eyes defiantly, though his pulse was racing and his breath was coming in quick shallow pants. Samson smiled again and ran a gentle hand through Cullen’s hair as if to comfort him.

“Do not be afraid, Commander. This is a gift, truly.” Then turning to the men holding him, Samson said. “Open his mouth.”

One of the red knights grabbed hold of Cullen’s jaw and forced his mouth open, so that Samson could then pour the contents of the vial down Cullen’s throat. Cullen struggled and attempted to curse and spit the entire time.

Falling forward as the creatures released him, Cullen coughed and sputtered as the liquid choked him. After filling his lungs with much-needed air, Cullen dug two fingers into the back of his throat in an attempt to induce vomiting and expel the lyrium from his body. But he could already feel it beginning to take effect.

The Red Templars retreated slowly into the smoke once more, confident that their job was finished. Samson was the last to melt away, still smiling that awful crooked smile and laughing.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Samson’s voice cut through the smoke from all directions. “The power the red lyrium brings you?”

It was at once the most wonderful thing that Cullen had ever experienced, but also the most terrible. Wonderful, in that it was the lyrium his body so violently craved. It soothed the itch of withdrawal instantly. Wonderful, in that it brought with it a rush of strength and the heightened senses that all lyrium granted, but tenfold what Cullen had ever experienced before. He felt as though he could conquer a dragon single-handed. But also terrible because of the burning pain and horrific changes that came with it. He could feel it spreading from his core outwards, and it terrified him because there was no way to stop what was coming.

He tried regardless. Emptying the contents of his stomach seemed to help momentarily, as did turning his concentration inward; mentally cloistering himself away from his physical body and ignoring the pull of the red lyrium on his mind. But Samson’s voice cut through his defenses once again.

“There is no use in fighting it.” He said. “It will seek you out, seeping into every piece of your mind and soul until it consumes you completely.”

Opening his eyes Cullen glanced down at his hands to see that great crevices were opening in his skin and emitting that terrible crimson glow. His clothes and armor dissolved upon his body, evaporating into the air and curling like tendrils of smoke, leaving him kneeling naked in the dirt but for the fur collar of his surcoat.

Cullen cried out as the changes took hold. He had never felt a deeper or more pervasive pain. Lyrium crystals erupted from various parts of his body, the largest growing from his back. In his head, he heard the laughter of a terrible voice not his own.

 _Corypheus_. Something told him.

“Your new master. Welcome to the fold Commander, with your mind in my thrall I will find every weakness that the Inquisition has and tear it open from the inside.” The voice said, and then laughed. The laughter crescendoed into the crashing of thunder and the rumbling of an avalanche, till it drowned out every other thought. Cullen closed his eyes and covered his ears in an attempt to escape the sound. He could hear someone screaming, the howls of pain more animal than human, and it took him a moment to identify the tortured voice as his own. Streams of lyrium slipped down his cheeks in place of salted tears.

But suddenly the noise was gone, replaced by an almost equally deafening silence.

Cullen opened his eyes to find that he was alone on the battlefield. The smoke was still thick as soup, but from the corner of his eye he noticed a light tinting it a vibrant shade of green. As he turned and watched the light grew brighter and seemed to banish the haze as it drew closer.

Cullen stared utterly transfixed as a figure made of a green light moved towards him. The being took on a woman’s shape, and its features as they manifested appeared familiar. Magic pulsed and zipped through the air like fireflies, and Cullen could feel it radiate towards him in tendrils of warmth.

Cullen tried to speak, but the lyrium had burned this throat too raw to be of any use. He continued despite the fact that his voice was little more than a rasping whisper and the proper shapes for consonants and vowels felt too complex for his tongue. He tried again and again regardless, calling out to the being in an attempt to warn her away from him, afraid of what he might be made to do.

The figure, either not understanding his pleas or simply choosing not to heed them, finally stood in front of him and smiled down beatifically. Once more Cullen was entranced by the beauty of the woman, the way her light seemed to call out to the lyrium in his blood and draw it forth.

Cullen shuddered to his core as one of the creature’s hands reached out and stroked his cheek tenderly. With her touch, came a rush of coolness that soothed like a balm across open wounds. From his cheek, it spread throughout his entire body until the pain had gone completely. Cullen closed his eyes in relief and sighed.

 

* * *

 

Cullen opened his eyes to see a gaping hole in a roof and the silver-studded violet of a pre-dawn sky.

“What?” He mumbled in a sleep-addled voice, surprised that he was suddenly home in Skyhold and that nothing hurt. Surprised that the horrors he had just experienced, all that death and corruption, could disappear so suddenly. It was then that he noticed someone else in the chamber with him. When his eyes fell on the Inquisitor’s face Cullen returned to himself fully.

“Sweet _merciful_ Maker,” he sighed, swiping one hand across his eyes with a shudder. “It was just a dream.”

Evelyn Trevelyan sat beside him on the bed already dressed and with her hair braided, ready for the day to come.  Her hand stroked along the skin of his shoulder and chest in soothing patterns as she stared at him with concern in her eyes.

“It _was_ a dream.” She confirmed. “Though it seemed worse than usual…”

Cullen just tightened the arm that she had drawn around her waist and said nothing.

Evelyn’s hand moved to stroke across his hair and temple and Cullen closed his eyes at the calming sensation. The green glow of her Mark pierced through his eyelids and it took him a few moments to place why that glow seemed so familiar, more so than usual.

The light from the Mark was the same shade of green as the light from the creature who had saved him in his dream… It had been Evelyn’s form that the creature had taken, he realized. Cullen took a moment to accept the comfort of her touch and sighed, his body relaxing by degrees.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, dreading the answer. There had been nights, since they started sharing a bed, where Cullen would wake to find that he had lashed out against Evelyn in the hazy realm between dreams and the waking world. Evelyn would try to pull him from his nightmares too suddenly, and his soldier’s reflexes would react before his conscious mind could identify the true source of the threat. The first time this happened he had run from her – had tried to shut her out. But in the end he was not strong enough to fight both his desire for lyrium and for her touch. He was a little ashamed to admit that his resolve hadn’t lasted more than a day. Since then, Evelyn had found safer ways to wake him from his nightmares and the incidents had ceased… for the time being.

“No, you didn’t.” she said, and he nodded.

“Good. I could never forgive myself if I did.”

“I know, but you didn’t… Would you like to tell me about the dream?” she asked.

Cullen shook his head and covered his eyes again.

“No, I don’t want to _think_ about it any longer.”

Evelyn nodded, clearly not agreeing with, but at least accepting his decision.

“I told Cassandra I would meet with her for sparring practice in an hour. — I can stay if you want me to, but otherwise I should go get ready.” She said.

Cullen lifted the arm from around her waist to set her free, but clasped her hand in his.

“No, go. I’ll be alright.” He said, pressing her hand to his lips.

Evelyn nodded and stood, moving towards the ladder that would lead her down into the keep and away from him. But the moment the warmth of her presence was gone from his side, the fear and pain of the dream returned and he panicked just a little.

“Evelyn!”

She was back in his arms half a breath later and he crushed her to his chest, rolling so that she was lying half under him, but she held him just as tightly.

“It’s alright!” Evelyn hummed in his ear, carding her fingers through his hair. He hated himself for how weak he felt, barely held together in the wake of the traps his mind set for him in sleep.

“This _was_ a bad dream, wasn’t it?” She said as Cullen pressed his face into the crook of her neck.

“Tell me?” She asked gently. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s hurting you.”

“It was Samson.” Cullen began after a few moments pause. “He made me… He made me one of _them_. He forced me to take the red lyrium and I became one of his monsters. I could hear Corypheus in my mind. He was going to use me to get to you, to bring down the whole Inquisition. It was tearing me apart.”

Evelyn was quiet as he spoke, but the steady rhythm of her breathing and the solidness of her body in his arms began to ground him once more.

“Then,” he continued. “A creature appeared. The figure of a woman made of green light…  It saved me. It drove away the madness and healed me.”

He laced their fingers together as he spoke, and kissed the mark at the centre of her palm.

“I think it was you…”

Still Evelyn remained quiet but Cullen didn’t mind, the look in her eyes spoke volumes. He still couldn’t believe it sometimes; that a woman like her could love someone like him. A part of him still believed that one day she would wake up to his inadequacy and move on to someone who deserved her love. But for now, she was his.

Cullen moved so that he could rest his forehead against hers.

“I love you.” He whispered.

Evelyn smiled. “I love you too. Are you going to be alright?”

Cullen nodded. “This isn’t my first nightmare, and it won’t be my last; though I will admit that it has shaken me more so than most. The idea that all we’ve worked for with the Inquisition could be for naught…”

He closed his eyes and tried to contain the onslaught of emotions that such thoughts invoked. The countless mistakes he had made in his life, and the countless people who had paid the price. The tortures that he had survived only to discover that he had become a broken husk of the man he once was. Then finally, when all had seemed to fall back into place, when he thought that he had his chance at redemption at last, it all blew up in his face... Literally, in some ways. Knight-Commander Meredith and the Templar Order in Kirkwall; the atrocities that had occurred right under his nose, sometimes bearing his seal of approval... Then there was the Chantry, and the war… The Inquisition truly _was_ his last chance. It was no wonder that the prospect of his failure here haunted him so, if only because of who could suffer for his mistakes this time.

“Cullen,” Evelyn pushed him back slightly, so that she could cup his face in her hands and force him to meet her eyes. “I will _never_ let that happen to you. _Never!_ ”

Cullen’s heart felt full to bursting, and rather than face the earnest emotion in her expression he wrapped her in a tight embrace once more.

“Nor I, you.” He said.

They stayed like that for several long moments, finding comfort in the knowledge that they were both still alive and well. But as always reality intruded upon their peace, this time in the shape of an urgent knocking upon the door to the Commander’s office below.

“It’s always _something_.” Cullen groaned, and Evelyn snorted in amusement.

“I should go.” she whispered.

With a great heaving sigh, Cullen extricated himself from the tangle of sheets and limbs and stood to don his armor and attend to whatever crisis had a messenger summoning him at this Blighted hour of the morning.  Evelyn stayed with him long enough to watch him dress and to accompany him down the ladder into his office.

“I’ll come back and check on you when I finish with Cassandra.” She promised, pressing a kiss to his cheek and moving to one of the side doors that opened out onto the ramparts, but Cullen stopped her before she could slip away and drew her into a proper kiss.

“You needn’t worry about me, but I would not mind the company if you have the time…” He whispered.

Evelyn looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and Cullen felt a small amount of pride at the effect he could have on her.

She smiled. “For you? Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, please let me know. Seriously, we fanfic authors get very little else out of this besides our own enjoyment, so kudoses (kudi?) and comments make us very happy and are what keep us writing. 
> 
> Please do go check out Alassa's work as well, without her talent I would not have written this.


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